


But the blues are still blue

by Beleriandings



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Audio 06: Ghost Train, Curtain Fic, Domesticity, Friendship, Gen, Rhys is accidentally a good relationship coach, referenced temporary character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26568622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: In which Rhys does laundry, and Ianto comes home.
Relationships: Gwen Cooper/Rhys Williams, Ianto Jones & Rhys Williams, Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 39
Kudos: 64
Collections: Torchwood Fan Fests: Bingo Fest 2020





	But the blues are still blue

**Author's Note:**

> This is set during the events of the Torchwood audio book "Ghost Train", so contains heavy spoilers for that. ...This also might not make that much sense if you're not familiar with the plot, sorry! ~~But also please listen to Ghost Train and share my intense love for it~~  
>  This fills my bingo prompts "Big Finish audio or tw novel tag/au", "food", and "curtain fic/ordinary everyday situations and chores".

Rhys was just about to start hanging up the laundry when he heard the key turn in the flat door. He put the first wet towel back down in the basket and peered around the doorframe into the corridor, very cautiously; it had only been two and a half days into his stay in Ianto’s flat that Rhys had very nearly put their whole plan – and with it the whole world – in jeopardy by walking out of the kitchen and nearly coming face to face with Jack. Luckily, Jack had been rather distracted by thoroughly – and rather graphically – kissing Ianto against the shoe rack in the hallway, clearly having restrained himself until after they were through the door only with difficulty. But Ianto had caught Rhys’s eye over Jack’s shoulder as they broke apart and given him a thunderous glare, and Rhys had got the message clearly enough to flee back down the hallway and hide in the laundry room, blushing furiously.

That had been a week ago. Now he was wiser about the workings of his new life in hiding in Ianto’s flat, and so he carefully looked around the corner before just blundering out. But luckily it was only Ianto there today, taking off his shoes and looking utterly drained as he flicked through the stack of post that Rhys had tidied up off the mat earlier.

“Hullo” said Rhys. He eyed Ianto’s singed hair and generally harried appearance. “Good day at work?”

Ianto made a face. “Not bad. Bit of a… dragon, ‘bout halfway through, but other than that...”

“Oh, yeah. I remember the dragon from the first time around. Took a lot out of Gwen too, seemed like. Everyone okay though, yeah?”

Ianto frowned, as though debating how much to say. “Eventually.”

“What?”

“...It ah. It killed Jack” clarified Ianto, shoulders sagging a fraction more. He laughed bitterly. “...Tried to eat him actually, which would’ve been messy. He’s fine now and everything!” Ianto reassured him hastily. “Just… y’know.”

Rhys did know, remembering what Gwen had explained to him about Jack’s… abilities. Not that he had any idea how to respond to this. “Sorry, mate” he said. “That’s got to be tough to see.”

Ianto blinked at him. “Yeah” he said, looking almost surprised. “Yeah, it is actually.”

Rhys narrowed his eyes; the way Ianto was acting was odd, like he didn’t admit that out loud very often. Then again, Ianto didn’t admit much very often; not personal things, at any rate. And no, he supposed he wasn’t counting knowing what Ianto sounded like during sex as personal things; evidently, there was personal and there was _personal_ , at least when you were Ianto Jones.

Rhys sighed, as the silence stretched between them, growing a little awkward. Ianto really did look exhausted, he thought. “Come on” he said. “Dinner’s in the oven; chicken and mushroom pie, from scratch.” Gwen always loved when he made that recipe; he pushed past the pang that thought brought with it and stilled Ianto’s half-hearted protest. “Had a lot of spare time, haven’t I?” He checked his watch. “Should be done in half an hour. In the meantime, help me hang the laundry, and you can tell me about everything Gwen did today, hmm? I miss her, so I want all the details of her being bloody marvellous.”

Ianto nodded, tired and grateful. “I can do that.”

Sure enough, Ianto told him all about it as they hung the laundry in the cramped little room by the boiler. Rhys found himself smiling as Ianto described the way Gwen had saved a mother and her two children by being handy with a fire-extinguisher. He could picture it all very easily, was the thing; not only did it sound just like Gwen, but Ianto was a very good storyteller when he wanted to be. He supposed you probably had to be, to be the man whose job it was to cover up all the mad stuff that apparently happened in this city on a daily basis.

But, Rhys noticed, what Ianto didn’t mention was Jack. He supposed he understood that too; Rhys hadn’t asked, and Ianto didn’t usually discuss Jack unprompted. And besides, Rhys had seen the look on Ianto’s face earlier when they’d spoken about Jack’s death, however temporary; the wound was still tender, that much was easy enough to tell.

“–So after that Gwen said she’d go in the ambulance with the kids, pull rank at the hospital to get them seen faster if she needed to” Ianto was saying. “And Jack went off to talk to the owner of the warehouse that got destroyed. He said once I was done handing out Retcon-laced cups of tea to the witnesses I should go home for the night. When I argued, he made it an order.” He rolled his eyes in a long-suffering sort of way and spread his hands. “So… here I am.”

“Here you are, back in time for dinner” agreed Rhys. “So, what’s the problem?”

“Well, I could’ve done more!” said Ianto, picking up the next shirt from the basket and smoothing out the collar with restless hands. “I could’ve… I don’t know.”

“Been there for him?”

Ianto gave him an odd look, hands freezing on the collar of the shirt. “...Something like that.”

“Maybe he wants some space?”

Ianto snorted. “More like wants to find a rooftop to stand on and brood.”

“Well, maybe that’s what he needs” said Rhys, unruffled. “... _Or_ , maybe the man actually made a decent decision for once. No offense mate, but you’re bloody knackered. I could tell the moment you walked in the door.”

Ianto raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to protest.

“Don’t give me that look” said Rhys before he could say anything, taking the shirt from Ianto’s still hands. “You’re exhausted. Even more than Jack knows, what with all those fridges. It’s only to be expected that running around fighting a dragon is going to take it out of you. And if Jack couldn’t spot that, he’s a worse boss – and a worse boyfriend – than even I’d thought.”

Ianto closed his mouth, frowning as though he was sorting through his memories of the last few hours with the slowness of a tired brain. “You’ve thought a lot about Jack’s merits as a boyfriend, then?” he said at last, a little weakly.

Actually, Rhys had rather agonised about that back when he’d been more worried than he was now about whatever was between Jack and Gwen. But he didn’t think telling Ianto that would help the situation much. Besides, this last week had done a good deal to put his mind at rest on that count. “Hard not to, with what goes on on the other side of that thin wall half the time” said Rhys instead, grinning at the blush rising on Ianto’s cheeks. He looked down at the wet pale blue shirt cuff in his hands. “And because... this is his shirt. You’ve got a whole lot of them in your wardrobe, along with his other clothes, his razor and toothbrush in your bathroom, and his coat has its own hook by the door that I’m not allowed to put stuff on apparently–”

Ianto was pouting, there was no other way to describe it. “That was a _polite request_ –”

“–You see him every day and most nights” Rhys continued, unperturbed. “Living in your laundry room is like being bloody married to the man myself. ...And look, he’s no Gwen obviously, but you know… he’s not so bad.”

Ianto arched an eyebrow. “...If I tell him you said this you’ll have to kill me and all that, I presume?”

“Oh, definitely.” Rhys sighed. “But really. He cares about you, Ianto. If seeing him die gets to you, I’m sure he knows that, y’know? Oh, don’t look at me like that, it’s obvious. And if he knows it gets to you, I bet you anything he feels guilty about it, and wants you to at least have some time to… I dunno. Get your head together.” He hung Jack’s shirt up neatly to dry, smoothing out the collar. “That all make sense?”

Ianto was frowning deeply. “Um...”

“Well, how about this then. He loves you, and wants you to have a rest now and again. That better?”

Ianto blinked at him, caught like a skittish rabbit in headlights. “I don’t know if he… I mean, he’s never said… not in so many words...”

It was Rhys’s turn to stare back with a raised eyebrow. For a man who worked for a secret organisation that caught aliens, Rhys thought, Ianto wasn’t half dense at times. He seemed to be fighting some internal battle, Rhys thought, mouth opening and closing a few times as he tried to decide what to say; Rhys took the chance to calmly hang the last of the socks up to dry.

Ianto was saved from answering by the _ding_ of the oven timer. Rhys smiled. “Come on. Lay the table and I’ll get the food. Want a beer?”

“God, yes” said Ianto, with obvious relief.

* * *

Later that night, while Rhys was lying on his little camp bed in the laundry room, he found he couldn’t sleep. Which was a shame because it was blessedly quiet for once, so really he should be making use of the opportunity, but… his head was too full, with the things he’d seen and done this week. He really, really missed Gwen: it wasn’t like she wasn’t often gone when he went to bed, but seeing her blown up like that made it feel completely different to when he knew she was just out saving the world as usual. Indeed, the determination to save her was just about the only thing that was making this bearable. But still, thinking too much about the missing shape of her in his arms made his chest hurt.

And the silence was pressing in on him amongst the cosy, washing-powder-scented warmth in the laundry room. He could hear cars passing by outside, the distant shouts of late-night revelers coming out of the pub down the road, the soft hum of the boiler.

And he could hear something else too, he realised after a while. It was very soft, muffled through the wall, but he could hear Ianto’s voice every now and then from the other room. Surreptitiously, Rhys shifted so he was a little closer to the wall, pressing his ear against it. He still couldn’t make out what Ianto was saying, but he could get the general intonation of it, kind of. From the way his voice paused and started again, it sounded like Ianto was talking to someone on the phone.

And though he still couldn’t make out the words, the tone of his voice was clear enough, if only because it was a tone Rhys had only overheard small bits and pieces of accidentally in the time he’d known Ianto. It was soft, gentle in comparison to his usual flat deadpan. Something edging towards unguarded, at least in contrast to Ianto’s usual carefully put-together manner. And even without hearing the words clearly, Rhys could hear the smile in his voice well enough; after a moment or two he even heard Ianto laugh softly.

And with that, he thought he knew exactly who Ianto was talking to.

Rhys found he was smiling himself, turning over and pulling the blanket closer around his shoulders: he wasn’t sure what he had done earlier, but he suspected it had worked.

And before long, he found himself falling into peaceful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the song The Blues Are Still Blue by Belle and Sebastian, which I associate with Torchwood for reasons that have more to do with it being what I was listening to when the series was set/airing than like... actual content. Nevertheless, I think it fits this very well.  
> Find me on tumblr @ultraviolet-eucatastrophe!


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